


just a light year from us

by kazahaya0



Category: Inazuma Eleven GO
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Falling In Love, First Kiss, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-10-11 05:40:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20541011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kazahaya0/pseuds/kazahaya0
Summary: Ibuki’s throat goes dry with realization, his heart pounds against his chest. The truth is too ridiculous, too uncanny to admit and yet Ibuki finds himself wording “I think we got married.” Shindou, who looks at the floor, nods.





	just a light year from us

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place after the bird wedding scene at the East Clan place (set during InaGO Galaxy episode 29).

They seem to like the both of them a lot, these birdmen.

Shindou, pleasant and respectful, is the perfect ambassador earth could hope for. Ibuki doesn’t have much to say, his hunger the only thing he can bring to the conversation.

Dinner is soon over and Ibuki’s stomach feels stuffed from all the eating and drinking. They urge him to take yet another bite, to drink from another cup as the hours drag on. It’s satisfying and odd, to receive such attention. He exchanges a quick glance with Shindou.

They are served tea as the dishes are piled up and taken away as they get ready to leave. Sporting himself like nothing short of a prince, Shindou bows farewell to the Elder, a flock of birdfolk escorting them through the heavy doors.

The patriarch waves a frost wing at them in silent mutual agreement.

***

Ibuki sees in this the opportunity to grab Shindou by the arm, urging him to say something. He feels the urgency from the other boy too. They need to get to the game tomorrow on time, they need to find the stone. But as he is about to pull at his sleeve, their group rifts in two and Ibuki is taken to a different corridor by an enthusiastic bird he sat next to during dinner.

Ibuki finds it weird but doesn’t object, he is not really in the place to do so. He turns around in time to see Shindou giving him one last quizzical glance as he too, is dragged by what looks like a big owl somewhere else. And then he is gone.

***

Ibuki can really appreciate a bath, especially before bed. The room is a bit small but the tub is huge and takes most of the space in there. He is reminded of the ancient bathtub back at his grandmother’s house which he hasn’t seen in months. The bathrooms at Gassan Kunimitsu are average and shared.

The clan members don’t speak a lot to him then, just chirp as they help him undress, hopping about the room, gathering towels and colored flasks.

They make him take his headband off. He begrudgingly obeys.

There is no reason to expect harm from them anymore but Ibuki feels a slight uneasiness about being here, taking it easy. This planet is so damn hot all the time too, Ibuki is practically sweating as he steps into the tub.

He gets in, slowly, the limpid hot surface makes his skin turn red.

He thinks of Shindou, and what he would say, something like ‘we should respect their traditions and not make a fuss, we are guests’. But this bathtub is big enough for him and Shindou to bathe in, it could even hold Tenma and a few guys from the team like a space onsen. So why isn’t he here with him? Guys take showers together on earth all the time. Maybe it’s a custom of this planet. He never really paid much attention to how birds showered, back on earth.

He slips to the bottom of the tub, lets the water cover his ears in total silence. The food and the scents of the place have made him a bit sleepy.

Maybe they took Shindou to speak with the Elder again, they had gotten along so well earlier.

Ibuki stretches as he takes another dip, shakes his head as he comes back to the surface and water drips all over. He feels a bit lost and without direction, waiting to see where this is going. He wishes Shindou were here, he always knows what to do.

“Would you like any sweets Ibuki-dono?”

The formality feels misplaced on him, Ibuki kind of wants them to quit it but he has to admit this is nice, like a five star hotel. The bird extends him a tray with six tiny pastries tied with tiny leaves, petite and white like mochi. He takes five.

The three birds scrub his back with brushes made of dark knotted branches and dried up leaves. They offer him a glass of a syrupy liquid that reminds Ibuki of wine as they proceed their work, perfuming and rubbing ointments on him, mint fresh and relaxing. Ibuki drinks one and another glass of the sugary wine. The drink tastes mostly of herbs and fruits and just very faintly of alcohol; it’s too sweet, bitter with spice at the edge of this throat, he notes, as he drinks yet a third glass.

***

Shindou is taken by two red breasted plump birds to the other bathroom. He too, inquires himself about the meaning of all of this, but as the birds start undressing him, he starts to notice things.

The two doves lead him to the edge of a foaming volcanic rock tub. There are a few ointments and candles besides a mirror, and a tiny plate of what looks to be like sweets has been laid out for him.

“You are most welcome to try them Shindou-dono!” one perky clan member says putting Shindou’s clothes away, its feathers swooshing past Shindou’s naked shoulders.

“Thank you.” Shindou answers cordially lost in thought.

It’s not a big bathroom, he thinks Ibuki’s should look practically the same as he bets he was taken someplace similar. Polished pebble floors and a fogged up mirror, a few flowers scattered around.

The whole place smells of perfume and incense, but it is not nauseating. It reminds him of the earthly smell of forest branches after a spring rain, fresh and sharp. Like everything in this place, all is reduced to its minimal, to its essence.

He hasn’t seen a lot of green, fresh nature around this parts and Shindou feels guilty for this treatment. Nature is a treasure to these people that he feels wasted on them, the rivals.

“The bath is ready, Shindou-dono!”

He gets into the hot, steamy water. He hasn’t taken a proper, real bath in ages - the bathrooms at the galaxy train containing shower stalls only – but his body remembers. He lets the hot water wash over him, warming and nursing like a balm and Shindou closes his eyes.

The clan members wash him over, dropping water over his locks and massaging them with their feathered wings. He has never been groomed like this. They seem very adamant about cleaning Shindou’s back, the whole canvas of his skin down until his lower back. Shindou blushes in embarrassment and one of the doves apologizes.

He gets offered a sugary wine and accepts it out of politeness. Something is bothering him since earlier but now it’s full on doubt, occupying his mind. Why bothering separating him from Ibuki?

He turns to the dove to his right trying to finding the right words.

“Thank you so much. But do you think you could you tell me where they took Ibuki? Why were we separated?”

The dove chuckles, its red chest puffs in excitement.

“Oh Ibuki-dono? He is in his bath as well. You know he can’t see you yet.”

His face heats up in embarrassment. He gets it now.

Shindou starts putting the pieces together as he remembers novels he once read, the gestures and looks between the Elder and their ways to “proper hospitality”. What he and Ibuki must have looked like to these birdfolk - not used to visitors much less earthlings -, was something else other than team mates.

Inside his chest something aches.

“All clean now, are you ready Shindou-dono?”

***

Ibuki stretches as he steps out of the tub, a new man. The hot water and the scrubbing did wonders to his sore muscles and bruised back. The birds give him a grey robe to wear. It adheres to the dampness of his skin, and is light enough to be comfortable in the heated atmosphere. He carefully grabs his headband as they exit.

The birds lead him to a different room, just on the first floor. A single clan member awaits them there, deep heavy brows over amber rapine eyes. He bows respectfully to Ibuki and opens the door to let him in.

“Good night Ibuki-dono.”

The room is candle lit, with a window letting in soft warm light from the outside, candles and fresh towels on a side, a strange array of oily flasks neatly arranged on the bedside. In the center, a huge futon is laid out before his eyes, and sitting on its fresh linen sheets is Shindou.

Ibuki feels relief wash over him.

“So you’re here! Did they give you this really nice bath too?”

Shindou looks graceful, beautiful even, in his white robe. His curls pulled up by a red string, still damp from the bath bounce behind him as he walks towards Ibuki.

“Ibuki, listen--”, he starts, he looks pensive like he has been waiting for him for a long time.

“Shindou I wanted to speak with you. Why do you think they’re--?” Ibuki interrupts him, suddenly realizing the seriousness of the situation.

The ceremony, the separate baths, the wine, the big futon laid out for them… he wants to hit himself on the head.

Ibuki’s throat goes dry with realization, his heart pounds against his chest. The truth is too ridiculous, too uncanny to admit and yet Ibuki finds himself wording “I think we got married.”

Shindou, who looks at the floor, nods.

The team, the galaxy, even earth. Everything feels so distant and far away, like a dream, bringing back to his memory a world where they both lived and existed, separated, a thousand years ago. Ibuki wants to laugh at this absurdity, to laugh himself awake but his voice never comes.

Together, they sit on the futon facing each other, with nothing but the candle lit light painting them a shade of gold and shadow. Ibuki feels glued to the tatami floor, unable to move and unable to speak.

“Do we have to do it?”

Ibuki keeps waiting for Shindou to laugh the whole thing off, to fill him on an alien joke only a boy like Shindou would be smart and sensible enough to acknowledge. But Shindou never does, and his cheeks are dusted pink when he speaks.

“The preparations were meant for something; that much is obvious. But these folk have never seen humans before, there is place for cultural misunderstandings.”

He takes a big breath before he continues. Ibuki closes his fists on the fabric of his yukata.

“The Elder has something in mind to help us reach our full potential. This is part of his plan. Although-” Shindou sighs again, a distant timbre in his usually calm voice “I don’t think we have to. This part in specific is… just part of their hospitality, I think. I am certain the Elder still wants to talk to us tomorrow.”

“Well then! But we are still… expected to— tonight. Is that part of our soul awakening or whatever??”

“No. I think the Elder thought... he was doing us a favor.”

Ibuki feels his stomach turn. This isn’t how it is supposed to go, not like this. His first time waited on by birdsmen, in a distant land with distant manners, before a big match.

A billion thousand stars away from home.

He feels angry now, even sick; at the birdsfolk, at the Elder, at Shindou’s serenity during all of this but especially at himself for wanting this so badly. Maybe Shindou is fine with this, but Ibuki has taken his time coming in terms with how heavy his heart felt around him. 

“This is an odd planet.”

That’s all he musters through clenched teeth. A joke, to lighten the mood. Shindou’s frown softens as he folds the borders of the bed.

“They expect us to do it. Because they believe we are a couple.”

Do they? Ibuki blinks, his face burns red with embarrassment at Shindou’s words. He feels a sudden burst of warmth from his belly and realizes he could use some of that wine now.

“But you barely know me.”

The wind in this planet howls like heavy rain outside, the room ever so hot grows colder by the minute. Ibuki wants Shindou to love him back, to trust him fully. Not to be forced into a situation like this. Shindou’s silence makes it worse, leaves a bitter taste in his mouth and Ibuki feels his vision sting and water a little.

“Ibuki?”

“It’s nothing.”

He scratches the tip of his nose with his thumb, avoids Shindou’s concerned gaze. The candles make a crackling noise, some dumb bug caught in a flame.

“Are you just agreeing to this because we need to save everyone?”

Ibuki starts, taking a risk and glancing at Shindou then. Shindou, quiet and beautiful.

“Or do you really want to do it with me?”

Ibuki hears himself say it, finally, his voice big for such a moment. He laughs then, a sad look in his eyes. He can’t wait for an answer, so he has to look away. He hates himself for caring so much.

“What if you regret this.”

An affirmation, Ibuki swallows hard as he stumbles in his own words, _what if you regret doing this with me_ is what he means to say. It is true they don’t know each other for that long.

Up until two months ago they had been brawling on the field, Ibuki masking his own distaste for teaming up as competition. Shindou had read through him, Shindou never faked him. They had been getting along so well now. The anxiety of this ruining everything leaves Ibuki sick to his stomach, his head heavy, dizzy.

Shindou has lived so much more than he has, has shared so many other things before. He has heard the proud stories of the Raimon trio during their trip, unlikely feats he didn’t have a place in.

Ibuki feels unequal in comparison, fighting a constant tide, proving himself. His crush turned into admiration, liking. It had sunk its teeth into Ibuki’s heart.

“Ibuki. I want you to feel comfortable with me.”

Shindou’s hand pats Ibuki’s lightly. His hands are cold, his piano playing fingers elegant and smooth against Ibuki’s own calloused ones, turnt by hours and days of rough play.

A soft smile graces Shindou’s lips and Ibuki feels the heat rise up, his heartbeat back again.

“If we have to do this I am glad I am doing it with you.”

They had been someone else before they met each other.

Ibuki grabs at Shindou’s hand before he can help himself, he feels his heart overflowing. His thumb caresses Shindou’s wrist. Shindou looks happy, welcoming. Their bodies connecting at just that tiny fraction of skin before Shindou’s arms are all around Ibuki, a rustle of clothing brushing together, heart to heart.

Ibuki relaxes into the embrace, closes his lids accepting it. His hands tremble and close in on the small of Shindou’s back, the locks of his hair.

Shindou’s breath is hot and uneasy as his voice breaks when he asks “Is this okay?”

He places a hand on Ibuki’s face. Shindou looks so gentle now, almost fearful and Ibuki barely recognizes him as the headstrong boy who almost lead Ibuki to madness a few weeks ago. 

“Could we maybe hum, just kiss first?”

It’s a stupid question, he knows it. But there is already so much going on, and everything is happening so fast.

“I have never even kissed anyone before.”

The words burn his mouth as they leave it. How embarrassing. He half expects Shindou to laugh at him but Shindou only has a tender smile to offer him as he gets closer.

Ibuki’s chest feels so small it can’t possible contain the growing size of his heart. Shindou closes the distance between them in a tiny, chaste kiss and-- so this is it, a kiss. All kisses are blossoms for more kisses, he read once, he remembers as Shindou’s lips leave a taste in him, hitching.

“Ibuki...”

And Shindou too, he notes to his great surprise, is nervous.

The air is so hot and dry, there is an electricity in the air suggesting the building up of a storm.

Ibuki’s head is running wild. For a while this was all he couldn’t stop thinking of. Long nights after practice showering alone as he stared at the shower tiles, frustrated about everything that had to do with Shindou. And somehow Shindou knew it, he knew about Ibuki and somehow he wants him too, at least for now.

Suddenly Ibuki feels so much older than he is, than they are. He never had much on his mind besides basketball, besides shining on the court. He never wanted to belong to a team, to shine alongside someone else, to share burdens and pleasures together.

Shindou was always the better one, the mature one, the one to lead Ibuki. All Ibuki had to do was to learn to depend on others, to depend on Shindou.

An arranged marriage.

Ibuki doesn’t want to say anything else, kissing Shindou is enough. It means so much to him he is afraid of ruining it.

Shindou trembles under his touch, his face flushes red, his eyes clouded with a strange hunger. Something inside him that has been building itself all this time too. Shindou’s yukata opens like a breeze as he moves, sliding off his shoulders and the air in this place is so hot, it glues to them, turns their insides into lava. His body earns for Shindou’s, his heart is ready to jump out of his throat. He mouths awkwardly at Shindou’s neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses. Shindou is tickled and laughs, makes him stop. And Ibuki feels even more inadequate, awkward, until Shindou rejoins their mouths in another kiss. Ibuki opens his mouth this time, letting him in.

Ibuki feels every kiss bruising, leaving him feverish. If he was timid at first, he is blind with hunger now. Fingers running through Shindou’s hair and the soft red ribbon comes loose under his touch. The wine he drank before must have turned into fire in his veins by now, it fuels him like air. And Shindou keeps pulling at his robes, unapologetically passionate and undressing them both.

He is enamored, he has been for a long time. And maybe if it is too much for him to hold onto alone, desperate, ardent, Shindou is always there, pulling him closer, showing him without words where he ought to touch and kiss.

Ibuki never realized how good the real thing would feel, holding Shindou down on the mattress, his brown curls wild laid out against the white linen. He signals Ibuki to grab something, their chests momentarily disconnecting, grasping for air. Ibuki hands him a tiny black flask finally understanding its purpose. Shindou puts a strand of curly hair behind his ear and prepares himself with the bright oily liquid, he massages himself. The smell flavors the room of flowers and something else, Ibuki’s head is numb, in a daze from arousal. Shindou gives it back, closing the small bottle in Ibuki’s palm, he expects him to know what to do with it now. The taller boy’s gaze flickers, his mouth agape and_ how does Shindou know so much about this?_

Shindou’s hands lead Ibuki. Ibuki presses his fingers on Shindou, the other hand holding his cock as he comes down to kiss Shindou brusquely.

Ibuki is carnal need, untamed as the muscles on his back stretch and tense up like an animal, instinct taking over. Is it virgin desire leaving him so hard it starts to hurt and fogs his vision, or is it the plain sight of Shindou, opening his legs to him, of Shindou begging with his eyes to be touched. Ibuki opens his freshly scented thighs and pushes in, forgetting to breathe.

Shindou is warm and tight and softly saying his name, encouraging him and closing his eyes at the pain. Ibuki is truly prey to him and opens his lips to Shindou’s moans, apologizing.

“I trust you.”

Shindou whispers, his eyes watering and Ibuki is so deep into him now he is about to go mad. Ibuki’s grasp on the sheets tightens as he thrusts against Shindou. He breathes in the strange flowery scented air, he breathes in the scent of Shindou’s skin and hair, breathing him in whole.

The air feels like sand, it’s so hot and dense now, thick with the smell of the candles and sweat. Ibuki feels something at the pit of his stomach like a ball of fire, and undoes himself with a groan. He sighs against Shindou’s chest, who underneath him still has his legs around Ibuki and is gasping for air, his face red.

Ibuki pulls back, putting himself in all fours again, panting.

“Shindou… y-you didn’t…”

“Help me finish?” asks Shindou in a soft murmur as he guides Ibuki’s hand to his stomach, down where he is still swollen and hard. He touches him, his fingers even lower until he touches inside where he left it all sticky. Shindou’s hand leaves him there.

He holds Shindou so much, he holds Shindou so tight. He is afraid of letting him go. That when they join everyone tomorrow this would have been a dream.

“Ah—“

Shindou’s expression softens as he cums into Ibuki’s hand and his whole body goes limp. He looks precious, Ibuki thinks, as he stares mesmerized before he meets him again, in one last clumsy kiss. He lets himself touch Shindou’s face, cleaning away two fat tears rolling down his cheek, fondling a few strands of his fringe that glued with sweat to his forehead.

Ibuki leans back and starts awkwardly cleaning Shindou’s stomach - a piece of fabric tissue carefully put away on the side of the bed. But Shindou stops him gently.

“That’s alright.” He says, a caressing phrase containing so much meaning and Ibuki feels lost for a moment, doesn’t know what to say. Shindou’s voice is small, comforting.

“Thank you, Ibuki...”

Ibuki pulls the sheets over them, joins their foreheads together and smiles as they breathe in. Their skin and hair sticky from each other and Shindou holds his arm as he closes his eyes.

They let their breathing mingle and lullaby them to sleep.

Ibuki had never had someone who was his, his alone.

***

That night he dreams of clear skies, like the ones back at home. The one he misses dearly without realizing.

In his dream he is back in the countryside, the rice fields at his parents’ home spread like colorful tatami mats, everything is so green and the sky is so blue.

The heat of summer turns everything slower and languid, there isn’t a single worry in this place. A dream within a dream.

In his dream Shindou is by his side and smiles brightly like the sun.

***

Shindou is afraid he took it too far, that he asked something of Ibuki that he might regret later. It was so sudden, so unpredicted.

They are so very far away from home and Shindou is afraid of his own feelings.

He chews on his thoughts as they run up the rocky roads of this land. He needs to talk to Ibuki about this, but on their way back to the stadium no time seems like the correct time.

These thoughts will take up new shapes later, better ones, easier to talk about, easier to discern and to understand. This is a strange dry planet and very dangerous too, as they make their way through the lava. Shindou knows they can’t afford to distract themselves with unspoken conversations right now, but it’s so hard not to think and remember.

Red is all they see in the horizon.

He spends his time aware of the distance between him and Ibuki as they walk, of Ibuki’s excuses to touch him, to talk to him. And to make sure last night was real, he answers back. He answers back every touch, every word. He wonders briefly if his body could ever get used to Ibuki’s own.

He had found a calmness in himself he didn’t know he had anymore, especially not before a game like this.

“T-thank you.”

“Same here.”

Ibuki and Shindou are finally in tune. The hot air between them is left undisturbed as they understand each other in silence.

They’re reaching it, the arena.

He feels it, the quiet symphony before the storm, a building up of violins and string instruments predicting their entrance. An orchestra of eleven people already in place, getting ready before the chorus, before the final movement.

It’s half-time, they can still make it.

  
***

“Ah.”

The universe is unparalleled. It is massive and silent, the stars shine like glitter on black velvet. Like something Ibuki had read about countlessly in school, but never quite grasped. Words without meaning nor context until now.

The universe is a never ending fall, filled with white noise and strange shapes, strange beings. The universe is a mirror. It doesn’t stare back, it makes you stare back at yourself like an ocean. But it also makes you dream and wonder like the sky.

Even after seeing it every day he still can’t grasp it, this magnitude. Uncalculable dimensions, a deafening silence and unreasonable numericals and astonishing facts only Manabe and Minaho would keep track of. To him numbers on earth are just numbers, things to be amazed by, mutable statistics, without a face, without a meaning, nothing to hold dear to one’s heart.

But earth is so small in comparison to this.

They had dinner a few hours ago and are on course again. Moving to the next planet in this vast pitch black sea, sprinkled with stars. And time doesn’t seem to stop, to move forward or to go back, no indication of night or day besides his bedside alarm clock. This messes with his head.

Ibuki can’t sleep.

He doesn’t think he can ever sleep again without Shindou. He gets up, throws a grey sweater on top of his black tank top, and whacks at his knees in encouragement before he leaves.

Ibuki looks for him everywhere, a vague feeling of anxiety going off in his chest making it tight and heavy. Maybe not tonight - he begins to think to himself -, maybe it’s too soon, maybe he needs some more time to think this over.

Ibuki’s body is exhausted, his muscles and skin sore from where Shindou held onto him. He feels his chest tighter as he returns to the corridor where his bedroom is.

He should have known it would be Shindou finding him instead. His back tenses when he sees him, waiting for Ibuki outside his room door.

“Hi.”

“I was looking for you.”

The dim light of the stars reflects inside the room, turns everything ethereal and silken.

“I don’t want what we did, or said to stay on that planet alone.”

Shindou’s look is composed, his feelings hidden behind a curtain of uncertainness. His brown eyes flicker at Ibuki’s touch, fingers caressing the boy’s cheek in response.

Like everything had been built up to this all along, a slow burn.

“Yeah, me neither.”

His heart is immense at that moment, as clear as the blue sky back at home, big enough to hold the universe outside the train’s windows. This, he realizes, was always the natural solution for them, him meeting Shindou and Shindou meeting him.

Together they were balanced.

Something blooms in his chest and Ibuki feels happy, holds Shindou close. And right there in his arms, Shindou smells vaguely of flowers.


End file.
